


The fairy queen and the king of knights

by MYcakes



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Accidental Incest, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, F/F, Friends to Lovers to Enemies, Half-Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MYcakes/pseuds/MYcakes
Summary: "He is the rightful king. He will be a great king. It was prophesized."More like organized by Merlin and Vivian. Is Caliburn on a loan? Morgan glances at the supposed rightful king of Britain and... "maybe Merlin should get him a helmet. I doubt his pretty locks will have the Saxons running."How Merlin and the lady of the lake are planning to dupe all of Britain to follow this boy king, Morgan has no idea, but she looks forward to sitting on the sidelines and getting a good laugh from it.
Relationships: Morgan le Fay/Artoria Pendragon | Saber
Comments: 30
Kudos: 110





	1. The boat date and stroll through the woods

**Author's Note:**

> It's important to remember that most of the arthurian legend is fan fiction. It's all fan fiction.

The first thing to do when raising a problem child is don't make them someone else's problem. Morgan barely remember her first family, in mind or heart. Everything in her childhood before arriving to the mystical island of Avalon is a bit of a blur. She's more than happy about that. The lady of the lake is not too strict, her sisters are as mischievous as her, and the bards aren't half bad to listen to. As her the lady of the lake told her, it's best not to dwell on the past when she has all to gain in the present. Unfortunately, the present was boring.

Merlin was in Avalon today. That's nothing new, he likes to break in once a month, he probably gets a kick out of trying to weasel through the wards specifically created to keep him out. It's a win-win for everyone, a nice exercise for Merlin and good practice for the sorceress like Morgan, the only one that doesn't enjoy are the people in the receiving end of his flirting.

Because he is Merlin they must wait around until the pleasantries are concluded. Morgan's interest wanes, in the back of her mind she notices the blond, green-eyed boy accompanying Merlin but that's about it.

Morgan checks out as soon as Merlin starts talking. In the amount of time she was under Merlin's tutelage she became an expert in tuning him out unless he's saying something useful. He's a fountain of knowledge that is easily distracted by women. Viviane must be in a good mood because she doesn't seem to mind his flirting and is in fact nodding at whatever he's spewing, yes, Morgan doesn't want to be here mentally listening to her old mentors go at it.

What should she try next? Fire barely fazes him. She should try calling forth a dolphin to knock him off the boat next time.

She's startled from her musings when her younger sister Nimue pokes her side. The younger girl is fidgeting and glancing at her.

"Hold it until our lady dismisses us. Your bladder can take it," she advises her and is about to check out again when Nimue whispers.

"No. Morgan. Uhm, that boy behind Merlin...are you two related? You look a bit alike?" she says innocently but that doesn't stop the stab at Morgan's ego at being compared to a boy that doesn't even know how to brush their hair.

"I don't see it," Morgan studies the blond lanky boy in peasant clothes. The blurry memory of a tall dark-haired man appears in her mind but all his bastard children died and she's met all of her aunt's children. "Nobody related to me would look and dress like that."

"But...your eyes are similar. They're both sharp and focused," Nimue tries explaining.

"To compare my beauty to Merlin's new pet," Morgan grumbles, peeved. "See what happens when you need someone to bail you from your harp lessons," she says and the girl pouts.

"But you do-"

"Shut up you two," Niniane says from the left but she's just as impatient as Morgan to leave. They both know how long meetings between important people can drag on.

Noticing the banter and the energy coming from the sidelines the high priestess of Avalon raises from her wooden throne and claps her hands. "Let's continue in private in an hour. My girls have their chores and lessons to finish and I'm sure you and-" her eyes slide from Merlin to the boy; Morgan is mildly impressed when he holds Viviane's gaze. She's not always soft or safe to look at. "I'm sure you would like to rest. The lad can stay in the visitor quarters."

Merlin laughs and shakes his head. "No, no. I can't imagine the last time you cleaned those rooms." It has been a while. Normal people can't simply wander into Avalon. "He can stay with me."

"The druids wouldn't mind housing him," Viviane responds with a sly smile and Morgan gets the feeling they're having a different conversation.

"He's a bit people shy," he says, and the boy continues looking all too serious.

"What a caring teacher you're turning out to be. Everyone dismissed."

Finally.

The girls leave bickering. Morgan shares her ideas on stopping Merlin next time and Niniane gives her a look, "you're powerful. Why don't you summon a sea dragon to take care of him?" she really doesn't like Merlin.

"Because I won't get a laugh from seeing him get chomped and I've never seen a magus get whacked by a dolphin," plus she thinks Niniane is giving her more credit than she deserves, wrestling a sea serpent to follow her commands sounds exhausting and time consuming.

Morgan goes to the record hall to help the scribes. They've imported new books and Morgan is one of the few people that doesn't mind sitting down for hours. The book she has to read and copy today is a thick book in Arabic called, The Entangled Family Lines Of The Pharaohs. She skips to the last page and sees Cleopatra's Macedonian family tree.

"What's this?" she asks a bard.

"The Entangl-"

"I can read the title. Why am I reviewing it? What knowledge am I supposed to gleam about Isis in this?"

"Don't know. How about you read it and find out," the bard huffs and gets back to writing.

Morgan glares at him until he's squirming in his seat, then she starts reading from the beginning. There are a few spirits roaming today and at one point the witch of Endor looks over her shoulder to see what she's reading. She suggests reading a book on necromancy but Morgan can't help think Vivane would be against spooking the nearby christian priests.

It's late in the evening when she's finished reading. She'll translate the work tomorrow and then start on the next book.

Stomach grumbling Morgan looks up at the trees and its apples. The red ones were safe for human consumption, but the golden ones planted by the fairy folk aren't. Only the high priestess and the fairy queens are permitted to eat of those apples. That isn't to say she isn't tempted.

She'll have to ask Viviane what it tastes like when she becomes immortal and joins the ranks of the fairy folk. Instead of going to bed for the night she walks to the coast and finds a little wooden boat to get on.

Morgan is about to get on when a young feminine voice behind her goes, "my lady...that doesn't seem safe." It's not a voice from anyone she knows and the fact it's spoken in Latin is even more bewildering. Morgan's first instinct is to swing the basket behind her. Embarrassingly, she does let out a small spooked sound, "eep!" and the target goes, "ow."

It's the boy with a blank expression but this time he's cradling the side of his head where she hit him. Morgan can count the number of people that can sneak up on her in one hand and it becomes even less when she's in her territory.

"Oh, you do show emotion," Morgan straightens, glad she wasn't the only one that lost her composure there. She clears her throat and says as regally as possible, "no need to fret over my safety. The dingy is sturdy and older than Merlin."

She uncoils the rope and hears shuffling behind her. The boy hasn't left her presence and Morgan figures he must be lost. Avalon has a mine of its own, it can be tricky to navigate and the younger kids get lost frequently.

"My lady...it's far too late in the day to be going," the blond frowns, "where are you going?"

The moon and stars are out and even the mists of Avalon couldn't hold back its shine. "I'm going to pick up my lover for a romantic boat ride and picnic," Morgan jests. Sometimes when the younger students ask to accompany her on errands, she lies about meeting a lover, they get too embarrassed to ask again. She expects him to blush and flounder but there's no change in his expression. "I'm going shopping," she sighs. This time Merlin's pupil does blink, and she stops herself from smiling at his expression.

"Shopping? Doesn't Avalon produce everything that can be needed?"

"No," she says. "I'm looking for a certain ingredient that grows on the Other side and Avalon lies between both worlds," Morgan says lightly and wonders how much Merlin has taught him. "Don't worry. I've don't this before."

"Allow me to accompany you," he says completely serious.

Morgan glances at the wooden sword latched to his belt. Frankly, she can protect herself much better than any squire of Merlin. She ruffles his soft hair, she's not that much taller than him but she does love teasing people. "That's chivalrous of you but I am no lady in need of an adorable knight. I'm entering the forest of the fairy folk and they're mostly harmless, but they do love their pranks. Merlin would be against me losing his apprentice, squire. Are you a future magus or knight?"

"Knight, and Merlin was the one that suggested I go with you."

That's odd. "Why?"

The boy shrugs, "he said the most important lesson a knight can learn is helping maidens."

Ah. She understands now. The incubus demon was trying to grate at her nerves by having her play babysitter while he flirts with all the bachelorettes in Avalon.

"No need for any lesson. You're cute. As long as you're cute that'll do all that work and you'll have ladies swooning at whatever court you decide to join."

"Swoon?"

She must get going. He's entertaining but Morgan can already feel Vivian wondering why she hasn't left yet. She throws the rope into the dingy and the oars too. It won't take much concentration to have the water carry her to the other side. A hand grips her sleeve.

"Let me," the squire offers his smaller calloused hand and helps Morgan step into the boat.

She's taken by surprise that despite his small size and lean figure the boy manages to get it in the water in one push. It's another surprise when the child swings himself into the dingy and grabs the oars. Even better the boy begins to row like he didn't just invite himself on this trip.

"Your cute looks fooled me into thinking you're an obedient child. I should've known better. Merlin wouldn't take someone under his wing that aren't like us." He might look like a runt but he's stronger than he looks.

"I am not a child. I'm small for my age is all," he says, and Morgan can hear a slight sulk in his voice. She feels pity in her heart, she was a late bloomer too. "And I'm not disobeying. You never told me no."

"I'll be clearer next time," she says without bite. Looks like she won't have to exert herself to reach the other side. She clears the mists and he's able to see where he's rowing.

They're silent for a moment when the child starts talking, "what do you mean people like us?"

"Non-human," and cups her chin. "Not 100% human I mean. The time we tried collaborating and he tried mentoring me we never got anything done. We enable our mischievous sides too much," she chuckles. "We got carried away and our playful acts become someone else's bad day. Honestly, he's a bit of bad influence. I suppose that makes me your senior."

The squire nods. "I see. Maybe he wanted me to learn from you?"

She doubts that. It's more likely he wanted to flirt and didn't want the boy shadowing him. She remembers the times Merlin blew her off to go on his flirting sprees. She probably did pick up some of his bad habits, no wonder Vivian gives her annoyed looks when she leaves the island without permission. Morgan always thought it was because of free spirit and fairy blood but it could be Merlin's influence too. The eldest priestess certainly wanted her at home learning to be a proper lady and sorceress.

"Could be," Morgan says and leans closer. "Or he wanted to flirt with the nymphs of Avalon." Ah, not even a blush from him. How old is he? Even his voice hasn't cracked yet. "You don't have a sense of humor, do you? Were you taken from your crib by mischievous fairies?"

"As far as I'm aware no."

"I doubt you're a simple squire," the boat hits the bank, and the boy gets out to push the boat further in to avoid it drifting into the water. Again, he helps Morgan step out the boat.

The forest was dark and small ember flies flashed and disappeared. She needs to start counting. Time works differently in that world and its vital not to lose track of time.

"You will wait for me here," she taps into the authority of a goddess. "I assure you I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that," he wavers, "but surely someone that was taught by Merlin and the lady of the lake will have no trouble in taking care of me?" he says and now her pride and capabilities are on the line.

Morgan glares at him and this time holds her hand out. The boy's thin eyebrows pinch to the center and she smirks. "Well?"

"You want me to...hold your hand? My lady, I am not a child," he says looking slightly peeved.

"A man wouldn't complain about holding the hand of a beautiful woman," Morgan says. "The beings that roam these woods sometimes like to trick strangers and you've never been here before. I don't want you getting lost." She can't help but grin when his cheeks look dusted by red. What is it with young boys and holding a girl's hand? "No? Then get back on the dingy."

He looks around, takes a deep breath, and slowly takes her hand. It's a light hold like he's afraid to fully commit. "This is...indecent."

"Don't worry. I only seduce men when I'm off work," she says, and he turns even pinker. Enough fun for now, time to count. She guides him to the Other side. Immediately she realizes she might have problem in her hand when every step this person takes is crunch, crunch, crack, he manages to step on every leaf, rock, and twig. At least now she knows he's not part druid or forest spirit. How on earth did he sneak on her before?

They're only a few yards in when she stops and removes her black cloak. "Wear this."

"I'm not cold."

"It's too hide your presence. You're kind of cute and I don't feel like fending off fairies tonight," she says and puts the hood over his face.

A feeling pricks behind her neck and she knows creatures of the other world are curious on who Morgan is with. The fairy folk do occasionally dabble in kidnapping. From what Morgan knows they are capable of reproducing and their immortal bodies are fertile, the problem is exactly that. Immortal creatures are very careful when they're having their fun with each other.

Normally, they don't reproduce among themselves unless it's to fill in a slot and sometimes it takes a long time before a slot is available. There's also the fact that like all living creatures, giving birth hurts and they're averse to pain, fairies don't like to be reminded about the cycle of life. All that is born eventually dies.

The last time a fairy died was twenty years ago. Everyone thought Vivian would fill in that role and become immortal, but she chose to remain mortal and serve instead. Shortly after Morgan was born. Sometimes she can't help but think her birth was-

"I get the feeling you don't take me seriously," he cuts in, and she blinks. "Is it because my height?"

"I have all the respect for a future strong and brave knight," she pats his head. "There. Let's proceed. Don't step on anything important or say anything rude," she takes his hand and continues to lead him in the dark.

"My lady, will your white magic be enough to fight off dark fairies?" he asks although his voice is relatively calm.

Children and their questions. "Magic is magic. There's no such thing as white or dark. It's like...a plant. The same herbs that can poison and kill a man can also numb their pain or help them sleep. An axe cuts down a tree to be used to chop wood for the winter. Magic is a helpful tool." She smirks. "Of course, fairies lean more towards trickery than combat and they usually mind their own business. They're in their own social club and not interested in peasants unless it's a direct insult. Don't worry. Do as I say, and you'll be fine. If anything happens, I'll put mud on your face. They'll think you're a gremlin."

"But how powerful of a sorceress are you?" he digs.

She stops and turns to him. "Powerful. You're practically standing in front of the avatar of the mother goddess," she says and flicks his forehead. "No more talking," she almost laughs at his displeased expression. He is no one to her and will receive no more information from her. Did Merlin find her threatening?

They continue walking for almost half an hour when Morgan gets tired of holding his hand and loops their arms instead. He jumps away from her and clumsily trips on a root.

Are all boys this jumpy? Morgan touches her face but it's still her face and not the face of the goddess that she has on.

"I don't bite. My hand was getting tired."

"Oh," the young man blushes, stands, and offers his elbow.

"Aren't you the most dashing knight on this side of the forest?" Morgan can't help but tease.

They hear a ruffling from the bushes and suddenly the soon to be knight is in front of her and has his wooden sword ready. Morgan frowns. Odd, fairies don't usually do that. There's no mist or illusions that Morgan can see. The ruffling becomes louder and a bear cub steps out.

His sword lowers and Morgan hears him sigh. Then a giant bear emerges from the trees behind its baby. That's not good.

Morgan carefully grips his tense shoulders. "Relax." He doesn't. Rolling her eyes, she puts her hand on his hip and forces him to move aside.

The bears tilt her head at them, Morgan waves her hand. They're not dangerous. The bear makes a sound and nudges its baby to keep moving. Not liking the way his eyes were trained at the retreating bears Morgan tries to calm him down by force. She's not expecting for a barrier to be there. A protection spell against magic? Did Merlin put that there. It didn't have his flowery touch.

"My lady...your-uh, your hand is," he squeaks, and Morgan lets go of him.

"You have a small waist," she notes and releases him, she's perplexed about the barrier, but she'll pester Merlin about it later. What kind of creature has wards against magic?

"I'm bulking. Where did that bear come from?"

"It was probably lulled here by your siren voice," Morgan gets on her knees and the boy jumps away. "Here it is!" she smiles at the glowing fungus.

"Those are...mushrooms."

Morgan sighs, "The lady of the lake and the best sorcerer in the world love their soups to have this specific mushroom. I think it helps their old bones."

"Aren't they immortal," the lad says and Morgan scoffs.

"I'm a young woman and even my body protests when I move into a position it's not ready for," she starts picking them from the ground. "Enjoy your youth while you have it."

"You don't look that much older than me. And isn't the reason your body protests is because you stay home all day and read books and knit," he says, and Morgan slowly turns to look at him. It seems he realizes he spoke carelessly and so he gets on his knees and helps her with the mushrooms.

The walk back to the boat is done in silence. By Morgan's account they were in there for almost an hour. She takes him on another longer path in case the bears are eating berries and sitting on the path they came from. Every chance she gets she tries touching him to see if she can push her magic through and evoke something. It doesn't seem to hurt but every time she tries, he blushes at the touch and she stops. What is he? An anti-druid? She remembers he speaks Latin.

"Oh, it makes sense now. You must be with the church. That's why I can't use my magic on you," she concludes. Foreign magic is tricky sometimes.

He clears his throat. "You're not Christian?" they stare at each other. "That was a dumb question."

"Well, I was in a nunnery when I was a little girl."

"You were? How was it?"

She feels an incoming headache. "I don't remember. It was a long time ago. I was much younger than you are now." Young and depressed. She was stuck in a place with people she didn't know, was forced to learn a foreign language, and serve an unfamiliar deity. As soon as she was freed from that place, she blocked it from her memory. His hand squeezes hers and she shakes herself from that fog. "I was banished. I was far too smart and pretty to live there. Frankly, I think the priests saw me as the reincarnation of Jezebel. I accidentally set things on fire with my magic. I bet they celebrated the day my sisters took me."

They make it to the dingy.

She puts the baskets in and forces him up the boat.

"But-"

"Shush," she climbs on and the boat sinks into the water. She touches the surface with her hand and mutters the words that will let them into Avalon. Like magic the small boat begins to move.

"Oh."

"Congratulations. You survived a whole night in the dark woods. You have potential," she sits next to him. "How about becoming my knight once you're older? Nobody would dare hurt me if I have a cute lion cub at my heels," she tries flattening the blond lock sticking out on top of his head but it's persistent on staying like that.

He blushes at the proximity or maybe at being called cute. "Please stop teasing. I can't be your knight if you're the lady of the lake."

She gazes at him in puzzlement. She's far more powerful and connected to Avalon than Niniane but she hasn't gained the wisdom to be lady of the lake yet. "If that career doesn't pan out, I'm sure my family will gladly sponsor you. There are no male sons in my family and I'm my father's only heir." Wouldn't that be fun? By the time Morgan is a fully grown sorceress, Merlin will be showing his age and this boy will be a man. A half-incubus, a part-fairy, and whatever this boy is living in one spot surrounded by normal people. No doubt, they'll be the nightmare of their neighbors and local church.

"Your knight?" he mutters. "If my destiny allows me to, then I would be glad to serve as your knight."

Destiny? He's a bit young to be thinking about that. Does he have dreams of grandeur? "I don't know the name of my potential future knight. What is your name or Christian name?"

"I'm called Artorius."

He is roman. Maybe mixed judging by his blond hair and green eyes. "I am Morgan."

"Nice to meet you, Lady Morgan," he says with a tiny smile and the boat hits the sand.

He climbs out first with the basket and then helps her down. "I enjoyed our little play date, Art. Let's do this again when you're as tall as me," she teases him one last time.

"Date!" he stammers.

She holds her hands up sensing the presence of her mistress. She appears in front of them in the blink of an eye. "You were taking longer than usual. I was about to look into the dish to look for you."

"I had unexpected company," she gestures to Artorius. "He helped me acquire these," she shows her the basket full of glowing mushrooms.

"You're getting along. That's promising," she smiles at them and Morgan recognizes that look. She has that soft look on her face when she's plotting.

Not caring to look rude Morgan asks in Welsh, "why is that, lady Vivian?"

"Having friends in high places is useful."

"What? This boy is shorter than I am."

Vivian frowns and says, "were you not listening earlier? This is the future king of Britain. He wields the sword Caliburn."

What? They have a long catalogue of magical weapons stored in the vault but she's mostly certain Caliburn is a sword of theirs.

"Hang on. That's the sword from the stone?" No wonder she hasn't seen it around. The sword isn't even their strongest weapon, but it is sharp. "Merlin stuck it in the rock and said only the rightful king can pull it out," Morgan says with a sly smile. "And people believed him? The half-demon that was supposed to be the anti-Christ. Truly, I can't wait until I get the ability to speak absolute nonsense and have everyone believe me," she scoffs. "My lady this boy is no Caesar." No chief or warlord was going to listen or bend the knee to him.

Artorius stands straight and it seems he does understand some Welsh. Clearly, they're talking about him.

"He is the rightful king. He will be a great king. It was prophesized."

More like organized by Merlin and Vivian. Is Caliburn on a loan? Morgan glances at the supposed rightful king of Britain and... "maybe Merlin should get him a helmet. I doubt his pretty locks will have the Saxons running. And look at how frail he looks. I do hope you and Merlin have some enhancements under your sleeve to aid our great king," she tries not sounding disrespectful. Even Viviane patience has a limit, Morgan is honestly waiting for the day she gets tired of Merlin's shenanigans and drown him.

"He will be ready and capable once he takes the throne. If you spent more time meditating you would be able to see his destiny," she chides her, and Morgan grits her teeth.

Destiny. Out of all the things she's learned in Avalon that is the most difficult to grasp.

"My lady-"

"We'll discuss this later," she smiles to Artorius. "Your teacher is waiting for you. Go wash your face and join him at the mess hall," she says in his tongue.

Artorius glances between the women. "I don't know the way."

They should put up some direction signs. "Morgan will show you."

Of course, she can't refuse her teacher and mother figure. She's not too attached to the boy to care if he is a pawn or not. But a silver of affection has been formed during the trip and she does care a bit. Maybe a little.

Huffing, she puts her hand on his back and leads him from the shore.

"Morgan are you mad?" he asks.

"A bit but I'll get over it. Our teachers are difficult to understand sometimes," she shakes her head.

They make it to the kitchen where Morgan hands the basket of mushrooms to the cooks. She's reminded that she is hungry and finds honey and bread to dine on. Out of courtesy she offers to share with Art. They eat together and Morgan senses a connection being built. What was it the lady said of Destiny and strangers? Losing her appetite she turns him over to Merlin and glares at the great Magus before seeking her sisters.

Talking to them doesn't give her deeper insight, they won't challenge or question Vivian's authority, but they do offer to get Merlin drunk and talking. Maybe they can find hidden meanings from him. In the end Morgan shakes her head. Like fairies she shouldn't concern herself over the workings of mortal men and a an evening meeting can't tie strangers together.

The magus and the squire leave the next morning and Morgan doesn't think more about it. She tries not to. Her meditations are interrupted by visions of Art. Her day dreams in class are interrupted by Art. Even in her sleep she sees the boy.

Asking Viviane isn't fruitful, "are you infatuated by knights in shining white armor Morgan? I'll introduce you to my foster son."

She halts her study in prophecy altogether. Days, weeks, and months pass. Avalon remains suspended between worlds, the girls train, and Viviane gazes into her dish of murky water.


	2. Year one, first time out in the road together

Morgan does not dream. She doesn't have nightmares either, she's stopped her lessons in the sight, she shouldn't have visions anymore. After a year of nothing she wakes up on the floor and a scream lodged in her throat. Visions aren't usually crystal clear but this one was terrifying vivid. She stays on the floor, trying to understand what she saw. A sword, villagers being killed in their sleep.

Running to Viviane was more embarrassing than she can hope to endure. She gets up and lies down on her bed waiting until daylight shines through her window and the birds start chirping.

At breakfast her sisters question the bags under her eyes. "I got a nasty vision," she angrily eats her pomegranate. Was it a lapse in her power? Was the land itself rebelling against her wishes.

"You should see our mistress about it," Niniane says.

Morgan listens to her advice and later regrets it.

As it turns out the lady of the lake is not happy that Morgan did not go to her the moment she woke up. "These visions are shown to you for a reason. Tell me what you saw."

"I saw people being slaughtered in the night. Blood on the sheets, their dying breath," Morgan says.

"The vision came to you for a reason," she repeats. "Pack only what you need. Let the land lead your way but be mindful of you what you do. Your actions reflect on all of us. The priests are already a thorn in our side."

Peachy. Times like these she wished she followed the footsteps of Circe. Either way Morgan can't say no.

"Who am I going with?" whenever Morgan is sent somewhere, she's in the company of one of her sisters. Admittedly she does behave better when she is partnered with her younger sisters.

"He is waiting for you outside of Avalon. Don't worry he is someone you can be at ease with," the lady of the lake taps the dish full of water. Morgan wonders who he is. Her foster son Galahad? Handsome and skilled. Her aunt's sons Agravaine and Gawain were at the age to prove their prowess.

She throws what she needs in a bag and warns her sisters not to touch any of her stuff.

"Have a safe trip!" Nimue says cheerfully and Morgan knows she's going to be in her room looking through her things.

Morgan is ferried out of Avalon and she's looking forward to a short work-vacation. Avalon is beautiful and peaceful and sometimes Morgan wants to cause some trouble. What's the point of gaining all that knowledge if she's not going to use it on someone?

She thanks the ferryman and steps out. She hears a horse neighing and goes to investigate.

It's been some time since she last saw the familiar blond hair sticking out. "Art!" she calls to him. He was dressed in light armor and riding a white stead. "You haven't changed at all." A side effect of Caliburn. Looks like his growth is going to be stunted.

Artorius jumps off his horse and bows his head. "Neither have you my lady."

"My beauty is eternal," she tilts her head at him. "What are you doing here? Where is Merlin?"

"He said he was needed elsewhere," from his pocket he pulls a sealed letter and gives it to her.

Dear Morgan,

I'm leaving my king in your care and use. I need some me time. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Love, Merlin ;)

"And he told me to go to Avalon. That there was a maiden in need of a knight. I didn't know it was you, but I am glad to be of any assistance," Artorius adds.

Morgan lights the letter on fire.

"A knight, are you? You've been promoted quickly. By next year you'll be a lord." Her eyes are drawn to the plain sword on his belt, that was no Caliburn. No, she senses powerful magic hidden in his bag. The sword was pretty and flashy and likely to draw the eyes of any thief, it makes sense for him to hide it. More seriously she asks, "truly, you were sent to guard me?" he nods. "Are you certain you wish to come? It's a long walk to the north hills."

"I have a horse we can both fit. I don't suppose you can have him grow wings?"

"Afraid not," Morgan chuckles. "I was only taught how to mend wings, not grow them."

She puts her hand on its head and kindly asks if it doesn't mind the extra weight. It shakes his head.

"I'm grateful for the company and your lovely face," she teases him, but it looks like he's made of sterner stuff, he does not blush at her words.

He gets on his horse and offers her a hand up. She gets on behind him and wraps her arm around his stomach, his whole-body tenses. Morgan cranes her head to see what's wrong. He's glaring and blushing furiously. Her chest was touching his back and she guesses that's too much even with his armor on.

"Oh, are you in the motions of puberty?"

Art stammers and the horse whines when he holds the reins too tight. "Let's switch. Sit in front of me."

To tease or not to tease? She shouldn't flirt while working. Maybe later.

Artorius sets a steady pace and they follow a road going north. He explains he doesn't mind the vague directions since it's how Merlin is sometimes. As long as they make it to their destination its fine.

After years of living in Avalon Morgan isn't sure how to deal with how quiet he is. Young druids are usually chatty and bold with her. She thinks it might a knight attribute, but the lady of the lakes foster son is charming and talkative. Even Gawain.

Morgan clears her throat and says, "have you heard of the tale of Cu Chulainn?"

He shakes his head no. She supposes fairy tales aren't in a knight's curriculum.

"Would you like to hear about it?"

He nods.

And that's how most of the day passes with Morgan rambling on about old heroes from their country and from far off lands. Art, to her surprise, listens attentively and asks questions about hero kings like Pwyll, Agamemnon, Alexander, Cleopatra, Julius Caesar, Ramses II, and such others. Arturius was curious on her opinion on what makes a good king.

"Historically speaking a good king is someone with successful military campaigns, contributes to civilization by building public works, someone that understands the people, and keeps the social contract between him and his citizens."

"What would that contract be?"

"To protect and serve. After all, we form communities to help each other and appoint a leader to decide on how to act on the wish of the group. A king that fails will not be wanted and will be disposed of through a rebellion or assassination. Even a cruel leader will be accepted, tolerated, forgiven, and even loved as long as his cruelty is at the expense of others and for the benefit of his people."

"I'll keep that in mind although I will try not to be ruthless even to my enemies. Even in war there are standards."

She smiles and tugs at his locks. "I agree. In the long run, it's better to establish treaties and form alliances. But with the history of the raids, and loved ones lost I do not think the Britain's will want to call the Saxons brother."

"In that case I will do what I must for the good of my people," he says resolutely. She can almost see him on a throne. It must be a trick of her sleep deprived brain.

"Two fighting tribes. A tale as old as time. Even the gods fight amongst each other according to the stories."

"You mean God against the devil?"

"No. I was thinking more on the lines of the Fir Bolg against the Tuatha de Danann. The Olympians vs the Titans. The Aesir and the Vanir." A blank confused look. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter if you don't know about foreign gods. I won't bore you with the stories."

She wonders if Merlin is doing dangerous research. If he's in France or Spain.

Artorius's face screws. "I would be interested in learning about these stories. Ignorance is not a state I like to be in."

"It isn't necessary for kings to learn about foreign stories."

"I think it is. Bards wouldn't be popular in courts if it wasn't so. And once I am king, I will have visitors from foreign lands. Knowing about their beliefs and legends could be useful to me."

"Is that so? Here I thought you wanted to keep listening to my voice."

"Your face does shine with excitement retelling these stories," Artorius tells her with small smile and this time she blushes. "Your face is turning red."

"I'm white and the sun is out. Odd for Britain," for once it's not rainy or misty.

They set up camp. Morgan having not slept well the night before, instantly knocks out. She's maybe shut her eyes for five minutes until her spirit is whisked away from her body and she is somewhere much colder and unknown. She wakes up shaking and gasping, a hand touching her cheek, and worried green eyes peering into hers.

"Vampire?" Morgan says, heart beating wildly.

"What?"

"Are you a vampire? You are very fair skinned," she notes and sits up.

"Not a vampire," he takes back his hand.

"Your turn to rest, Art. I'll take the rest of the watch."

He seems to struggle between caring and respecting someone's wishes not to talk about it. He lies down, sword in hand. Morgan tends to the fire and examines his features. He was pleasing to the eye even when he looked stern in his sleep. She notes clenched jaw and at her touch and a few words he lets a little noise, and his body slackens. The barrier this time doesn't stop her and that puzzles her greatly. She pokes at him again with her magic and it's like the wall is there but there's a gate for her magic to flow through.

She wonders what changed from last year. Her night is spent thinking about all the magical creatures on the island.

In the morning they ride again, and she almost falls asleep and Art has to grab her waist to keep her from falling. She tries to pretend that didn't happen, but Art doesn't. He strips his chest plate and gives her a look. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Morgan relinquishes and leans against him, head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her and secures her in his grasp. She's tired and sleepy and so she doesn't comment on the blush on his face.

It'll only be a quick nap.

She wakes up in the middle of the day.

They find a creak and stop for a brief rest and lunch. Morgan watches with increasing bewilderment as Art takes out Rhongomyniad.

"You're...using the holy lance to gut a fish..."

"Yes."

"That's not what it was created for."

"If it's good enough to use on people, then its good enough to use on fish. Like you said before a tool is a tool."

Morgan didn't mean it like that. "I guess I'm in no position to judge. I've used it to pull things from high shelves." The lady of the lake found her doing that once when she was younger, and Morgan never did it again.

Artorius stops himself, spear hovering over the water. "You're not going to tell your mistress, will you?"

"I won't tell a soul," Morgan laughs.

They share water and fruits from the land of Avalon and his roasted fish. After eating Artorius practices his forms with his normal sword and Morgan asks if he wants a sparring partner.

"Do you know how to wield a sword, my lady?"

"I know the basics. How to defend myself. But I think I can give even you a slight challenge."

"You've thrown your gauntlet and I accept," Artorius takes out Caliburn and offers it to her. "Here."

She's not sure whether to be touched by his trust or worried. They haven't known each other for that long, he shouldn't be giving out his magical weapons like that. She no great knight but giving her something as sharp as Caliburn...is going to be very fun to use.

She smiles at Artorius and he smiles back. It turns into a confused frown when there is suddenly three of her.

"An illusion? Morgan this is considered cheating. Dishonorable."

"Not every battle will be fair," all three of her say and lunge at him.

He ducks and rolls on the dusty ground, standing outside of their circle, he carefully swings at the nearest Morgan, not too hard. Morgan blocks his attack.

"No need to hold back on me dearest," Morgan says and attacks.

Artorius goes on the defense, dodging and parrying her attacks. It might be because of her skill level and physical strength but he doesn't struggle with fending off three of her. Time to up the ante. She twirls her sword, and it bursts into flames.

"It can do that?"

An arch of flames leap at him and he dives out of the way. It hits the trees but doesn't do any damage.

"No. You should by now fairies are mostly mean tricks," she says.

They fight for a little while as Artorius quickly learns Morgan doesn't have much stamina in physical fights. In fact, it does turn playful the longer he draws out the fight. Morgan has to rely more and more on her magic to fight him. In the end its when they clash swords and Artorius pushes her back she loses by tripping on a rock, she reaches out her hand and drags him into the creak with her.

They look at each other wide-eyed and laugh. A few minutes later Morgan is the only one laughing as he's shivering next to the fire. The water doesn't bother and so she offers her dark cloak to him.

"You're wearing less than I," he says, and she raises an eyebrow.

"Turn around if you don't want to look."

"But what if you get cold?"

"My lady likes to initiate us by dumping us into the lake," she chuckles, and he raises a thin eyebrow. "You don't believe me?"

"It's impossible to imagine her doing that." That's fair. She does look motherly and innocent.

"My lady does it to test our affinity to nature. Not drowning and hovering above the water is one of those tests," Morgan explains.

"I thought all sorcerers could control nature."

"No. From what I heard the lady Viviane took to water and prophecy easily but struggled in other areas. My strengths would be illusions, healing, spells, potions, and summoning creatures to my aid. My link to the land of Britain is second only to the lady of the lake," Morgan states.

"You're bragging."

"I'm not. If we're going to work together you should know what I'm capable of doing."

He nods looking amused. "What are your weaknesses?" he huffs into his cold hands.

Morgan crosses her arms. "Don't concern yourself over that."

"You don't wish to share?"

"There nothing to share. I'm well educated in all the fields of magic," even if she did have weaknesses, she wouldn't tell him.

"Your sword play could use improvement," he tells her, and she wonders when she asked. He must notice her increasing ire because he adds, "you're not bad. However, if there's a time you don't have magic at your disposal and only a sword at hand...you might want to train more just in case."

"If I were ever to be running empty, hypothetically speaking, then I can simply take from the land," she says. "Here. You're turning blue and I will not nurse you from a cold."

He takes her cloak, but his teeth don't stop chattering. Morgan waits a few minutes for him to say something, but he doesn't, she assumes he isn't the kind of guy that would tell someone else about his discomfort. Maybe out of pride or not wanting to worry others. She goes to the fire and scoops it into her hand. Artorius is alarmed to say the least but she claps her hands and the fire transfers inside.

His shivering stops when she cups his face, he lets out a little sigh and leans into his touch. His cheeks are soft and cool but quickly warms up.

"You're very pretty and androgynous looking. I thought knights would be more rugged," she admits. Maybe he's the son of a spirit, a fairy, or a god.

"I've been told that before," he says quietly.

Her hands lower to his throat and she feels him gulp, his eyes on the ground. Looks like he'll swallow his embarrassment if he can feel warm again. Morgan smiles slyly and takes his hands.

"Feeling better?" she asks rubbing his hands. "Or do you want me to touch somewhere else," she touches his stomach and as expected he panics and slides back, stumbling with his words. He's cute and she would like to have her fill of him for a night of pleasure, but he does seem like the opposite of merlin. Not into one-night stands or casual sex.

"My lady you're taking your teasing too far," he pouts at her.

She shrugs and goes to read her book on necromancy and communicating with the dead. She can see spirits just fine but forcing decayed bodies to move is not something she's done before. After this trip she'll get a book on transformation. Artorius sleeps and Morgan reads until her eyes start to strain. In the morning they pack up and go, she declines Artorius offer to use him as a pillow. Since the morning a crow has been flying over them and she knows they're close.

"Our stop is coming," Morgan warns him, and he nods grimly.

Before they enter the village, they smell the stench of rotting corpses. Morgan gags, the bodies she's had to prepare were usually fresh and they got rid of them before the bodies started to smell. Artorius and her get down to look investigate the cottages. There were no valuable items in any of the homes. He approaches the bodies and examine the clean cuts, no signs of struggle.

"They died peacefully," Morgan notes.

"They were murdered," Artorius says hand on his sword. "Perhaps they were drugged but I don't see how it's possible to drug everyone in the village."

The well is clear. Morgan dips her hand in and is about to stick her finger into her mouth but Artorius grabs her wrist and she throbs at his touch. "What?"

"Let's not risk your health. The color of the water doesn't look tainted. It's full."

"They could've been forced to sleep," Morgan guesses. "There are devices that can put the masses to sleep. A priest during Sunday service."

"Morgan," he chides her.

"Couldn't resist the jab," she cups her chin. "I'm guessing it's an enchanted flute that did the trick."

Artorius nods and points at the horse. "Stay with the horse. I'll track the murderer down and slay him," it's the way he says it like it's the logical conclusion that has her mouth hanging.

"Slay him?" She puts a finger on the sword and nudges it down. "Art, whose quest is this?"

The knight frowns but answers her, "yours but-"

"My quest. That's right. I'll handle him."

"But I'm a knight and the future king, and you are a lady. Stopping murderers is what I do."

"You are a knight at my service remember," she taps his nose, and he gives her a startled look. "And my kind don't yell and challenge others to a duel. More importantly, he is outside your jurisdiction. He must go to Avalon and face trial there."

"But-"

"Who is in charge again?"

He sighs and puts Caliburn away. "You are."

"And who is older and wiser?" she continues.

He frowns at her. "I don't see how that matters," Art says defensively. "Fine. We'll do things the fairy way for now. What would you have me do o great Morgan of the fairies?" he asks, sounding resigned but ready.

"Well, since you're kindly offering, I do have a plan and a role for you," she says with a smile that makes Art nervous.

She leaves him a minute to go rummage through the wooden temple. He follows but stops at the entrance of the wooden temple and she hears him jumping from foot-to-foot. Is there a taboo about entering pagan temples? Getting what she needs but wanting to play a small prank on him she hides from his sight and creeps around. It'll only a small prank to keep him on his toes.

He realizes he doesn't hear Morgan and is about to go in when her hand grasps his shoulder and he almost behead Morgan right there. They're both staring at each other wide-eyed. He removes the sword from her neck and from the tiny cut a seep of red.

"My lady, I apologize! I did not know you were behind me and-"

"I was the one that snuck up on you. Now I know better to play a prank on you like that," Morgan says with a sorry smile and touches her cut.

"Trying to scare me like that is not very lady like," he tears the end of his sleeve.

"You are no lady. What would you know?" she chuckles and there's the smallest of smiles on his face.

"Touche," he dabs at the blood with his cloth.

"It's fine. I heal faster than most people. Never mind that, look at what I found." Morgan shows him an animal skull. "Put this on you head," she doesn't wait for his consent and jams it in. He can barely see.

"Morgan...what am I wearing? Please tell me it's made from clay."

Not understand why he's getting squeamish now but not about the dead bodies she shrugs and lies, "okay. It's made from clay." In truth it's the skull of stag. She throws her black cloak around his shoulder and he looks quite menacing. "Good. Good. Show me Caliburn."

Art obeys and it shines in the light. "Hmm. It doesn't go with the outfit. I'm going to have to throw an illusion to make it look dark and ominous."

His grip on the handle tightens. "You're going to tamper with my sword?"

Morgan quirks an eyebrow at him, not like he can see. That sword was fragile. It was created through honor and it would break without it. Tweaking it with her magic would probably do some good.

"No. Simply the air around it. Can you not sense the angry spirits of the dead?"

He shakes his head.

"Do you mean to frighten him to death?"

"That would be interesting to see. No. I think this fellow has no respect for power or the land. As the servant of Avalon, it's my job to set him straight. Come Artorius," she takes his hand and lets the furious spirits guide them through the woods. "This will be fun."

"Are there any fairy queens in the woods I should be worried about?"

"Only me," she answers him with a smile.

They traverse downhill where she spots her target, a young untrained druid by the looks of it. The angry spirits glaring at him are another indicator. She senses some power bubbling inside him but what grabs her attention is the small body wiggling on the ground. Looks like he didn't kill everybody. Morgan tries calming down her heart and nudges Artorius to stand.

Time to set the mood.

She takes a deep breath and slowly lets it go; the clouds lower themselves to the earth. The wind stops rustling the trees and everything became still. Even the birds stop chirping to observe what's happening. It seems even the noon sun becomes weaker and turns dim. The druid stands to his feet and looks around in alarm. Morgan feels a small tug from him as he tries to bend the world to his needs, but he is no match for her power.

Through some focus from her a beam of light shines behind Artorius and cases a large shadow. The man whirls around and squeaks at the sight of the horned figure. Morgan bites her tongue to stop herself from chuckling. The crow from earlier swoops down and sits on one of the antlers.

Morgan clears her throat and amplifies her voice, "do you think you could kill and slink into the woods without consequences, foolish boy."

"Goddess?" he trembles.

"I am Britain herself. I will give you two choices. Meet your end here," she pokes at Artorius and he raises his sword, dark energy whirls around it, "or go to Avalon and perhaps the lady there will let you atone."

He gets on his knees and presses his face to the earth. "Mercy. Please."

"Go. Now. Leave with your head attached to your body and nothing else."

He scrambles up and runs. Satisfied Morgan gets up from the bushes and the environment returns to normal.

"You let him escape," Artorius says with disapproval and removes the skull.

"No. I sent him to my lady," Morgan smiles at his helmet hair.

"What if he doesn't go?"

"He will. We were quite terrifying. A goddess and her executioner," Morgan slowly walks downhill.

Morgan could see the captive girl was trying to use the mist to hide herself. A girl with magic in her veins. Artorius kneels besides her and carefully cuts the girl loose. There were scattered bruises on her face and arms.

"I have a heeling balm for the swelling. Are you hurt anywhere else?" Morgan asks in Latin first and the girl gives her a confused look. Morgan asks again in two other languages until she gets a response which is a relief. There's a clear divide in skill between the five languages she can speak fluently and the other ones she's trying to learn.

"Your name?" Morgan tries asking gently.

"Sebile," she sniffles. "Are you a goddess?"

"I'm close enough," Morgan jokes but remembers this isn't the time. "I'm a servant of Avalon and this is my pack mule," she gestures at Artorius who stands stoically next to her. "Do you know Avalon?" The girl nods. "I will take you there if you have no other place to go." Lips quiver, eyes moisten, but she doesn't cry.

"No. My mother and father are gone."

"Then it seems you'll be in my lady's care until you are grown. Can you stand and walk, or do you need assistance?"

"I can walk."

The lady of the lake should be satisfied by Morgan bringing home a child and a druid with a kill streak.

The stolen things they find...they're not sure what to do about it.

"Do you accept jewelry as payment," Morgan holds beads and some gold.

Artorius shakes his head. "I don't need payment to help others and she is one of my future subjects."

"The dead have no use for this." She looks around and the spirits have all vanished. Gone with the crow.

"Give it to the girl."

"There are rules in Avalon over holding material things from our past lives," she shakes her head. "Everyone is given a clean slate. Our former ranks don't matter and exceptions can't be given. Family heirlooms are taken away." She takes the sack and puts it on the ground next to a tree. Roots twists and crawl to cover it from view. "There. If she wishes she can find it here."

Now onto the matter of the enchanted flute. Morgan is better at the harp, but she wipes it with her sleeve and blows lightly. Sebile eyes flutter and she pinches her cheek to stay awake. Satisfied to see it works great Morgan slips it into the pocket of her dress.

"Shouldn't we break it?" Artorius asks. "What if a dangerous individual gets their hands on it?"

"We have a secure storage in Avalon. It'll be safe there," she says and starts walking. "I call this mission a success," Morgan tells Artorius as they slowly climb uphill.

"That is if he does turn himself to Avalon," he says, and Morgan rolls her eyes.

"Oh, my white knight. Don't you believe in people redeeming themselves. The good in people."

Artorius responds with a curt, "to a point."

Regret hits hard when the smell of corpses hits their noses and the girl's shoulders sag. He goes by himself to retrieve his horse and they wait by the road for him. All Morgan can say to her is that the lady of the lake will punish him.

"Violently?" Sebile wipes her eyes.

"Oh absolutely," whatever stops her from crying.

He returns and Morgan rubs healing balm over Sebile's cuts and bruises. Once she's patched up, they force her to eat what she can. She tugs on Morgan's sleeve and asks if she can pet the horse, she translates for Artorius and he gives her permission. She tentaviely touches the horse's snout.

"Don't be afraid. He likes being petted and getting scratches."

"Is he yours?"

"No. He told me right now."

The girl stops and stares at Morgan with awe. "Are you a princess?" she whispers and Morgain briefly wonders what her title is. Her father was a duke. "He's your knight?"

"For a few days," Morgan chuckles. "He's pretty useful, I might end up keeping him longer."

With Sebile in a better mood and her body healing he helps the girls get on the horse.

"Shall we take turns on the saddle?"

"No need. I'll walk."

It's slow progress even with good weather, no longer in danger Sebile's body starts to shut down from exhaustion. Morgan does her best to hold onto her and eventually they find a town with an inn. Artorius takes the horse to the stables and Morgan goes to get them a room.

The inn keeper eyes linger on Morgan's breasts. The possibilities on how she can approach this. Seduce, trick, or hit. In a flash Artorius is standing in front of her and the inn keeper pretends he was never eyeing Morgan like that. She almost laughs but holds it in.

"What may I do for you, kind sir?"

"We would like a room for the night. Two beds."

"Aye. That'll be," he gives the amount and Morgan who has never had to use money even when she was living with her parents tricks his mind into thinking the rocks, she's giving him is what he asked for.

Artorius eyes widen and Sebile looks at Morgan with curiosity.

"Right this way my lady," he takes them upstairs and gives them the key. The room is nice? Morgan thinks it's fine for higher than average commoners. "Call if you need anything."

"What was that?" Artorius asks.

"A Simple trick. The eyes are deceptive, and his greed made it easier to show what he wanted to see. I taught myself how to do that when I was in the nunnery. Maybe I'll teach Sebile how to do it."

"Morgan, stop corrupting the youth," Artorius says and plops himself down on a chair facing the door.

Sebile washes and eats a bit more, then falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow, even snoring a little.

Like calling for an animal Morgan tries to lure Artorius to bed. "Art, I paid fake money to get us two beds. You should take this one."

"I'll give him his tip in the morning," Artorius says. "And I did not like the way he was looking at you, plus the trick you played on him earlier. A beautiful woman with coin to spare and being accompanied by a knight. Wonder what he thinks? That you are perhaps a person he can ransom."

"He won't. He is a simple man. Dumb, full of lust, but won't commit a crime. Come and sleep."

"No. Morgan you have lived your life in the safety of Avalon. You do not understand how cruel men can be. I tell you to sleep."

Gritting her teeth at the bossy voice she stomps (as quietly as she can) to him and leans down where they're face to face. "A little too soon to start barking orders your highness," she lifts the flute and plays directly into his ear.

Abruptly he stands. "Morgan! What are..." he tries fighting back sleep but ultimately slumps on the floor.

Okay. Maybe she should've tried getting him to bed before she put him in a sleeping spell.

She can't leave him there. Dragging his dead weight to bed isn't easy but she manages to do it, she collapses next to him panting. "Why are you so heavy?" She gets up from the bed and rolls her shoulders. She chants a few words at the door to keep intruders out because now Artorius put his worries in her head. Tired she lies down next to Artorius and shuts her eyes.

It's morning all too soon and its cold and raining. She shuffles closer to the body next to her and tries sleeping some more. But no, Viviane won't let anyone slack off with their education or their chores. Better for her to wake up now and not from having a bucket full of seawater spilled on her. Morgan opens her eyes and finds greens eyes glaring at her.

Oh, right. She's not in Avalon. "Morning Art," she rolls to her other side.

"Morgan," he hisses under his breath and she rolls back.

"What?" she hisses back.

"What did you do? What did we do?" he asks in a careful voice.

It takes a few seconds for her to understand what he means. "We fell asleep. I'd like to continue sleeping," she shuts her eyes and ignores his hissy fit. "Your chastity is intact and safe. Now stop talking to me," she grumbles.

She takes full of advantage of sleeping and then she gets up to have breakfast. Artorius pays the innkeeper and brings their horse from the stable.

Almost a week of slow traveling and they finally make it to glorious Avalon. Not that anyone can see the island with the heavy mist surrounding it. A ferryman waves at them and Morgan nudges Sebile to get in the boat. Looks like Artorius will see them off.

"This was a memorable second date!" Morgan says cheerfully. "I hope the next is just as exciting."

"My lady, please do not make jokes like that when people are around," Artorius responds glancing at the ferryman but he's used to Morgan's antics. The young knight gathers himself and says, "it was nice to see you again Morgan. I hope I have the pleasure of working with you again."

Clearly it was better to work with her than against her.

"We do make a great team, yet I wish for our next meeting to be in a friendly setting. Don't be a stranger."

Artorius puts his hand on the handle of his normal sword. "I have training to fight against the Saxons and get the lords to my side...but I will try to visit you if possible."

Looks like he's forgiven her from putting him to sleep earlier. Despite his aloof expressions he is soft on the inside. Morgan startles him at the touch of her hand on his cheek. "Take care of yourself. Possessing Caliburn doesn't make you invincible."

"I will do my best."

She gets on the boat and helps the ferryman clear the way. The island isn't far away but Morgain is carrying cargo that might set of the wards.

While they're crossing Sebile asks with the bluntness of a child. "Is he your lover?"

"No. A friend, I think." Morgan turns to the ferryman. "Has a man, weak in power, arrived to Avalon."

"Yes. There was a man looking for repentance that came a few days ago. He was allowed to enter."

As she's taking Sebile to the house of maiden she spots familiar long white hair. Merlin. She gets one of the older girls to help Sebile settle in and then she goes to deal with him.

He is flirting with her sisters by the fountain.

"I sense danger," Merlin whispers to himself as she takes his staff and hits him in the head with it. "OW!"

The girls take that as their cue to exit.

She pulls at his cheek. "I understand you're half-incubus and it's in your nature-"

"Morgan that hurts."

"-but you do have a responsibility as his mentor. Don't leave him to go canoodling."

"I take my role as his mentor seriously!" he whines. "But I do have a life outside of politics and raising heroes."

"That vision I had was your handiwork wasn't it?"

"...maybe."

Once again Morgan has renewed determination to grow more powerful and absolutely kick Merlin's ass. "You're old! You already had your run! Don't send me to do your work!"

"Wait. Wait. There was a lesson in all this."

"Oh?" she lets go of his red cheeks

"Sometimes I won't be able to be there for him. I do have other responsibilities you know. Things to see and learn. As for why I sent that vision to you, you know as well as I what makes the properties of a hero. He needs a wise old mentor and the aid of a goddess."

"The lady of the lake is-"

"Tired," Merlin says, and she glares at him. "And misses her old lover."

Morgan crosses her arms. Neither her nor Merlin can understand what it's like to miss a loved one. "She should eat of the apples and become immortal. Wait for him to come back to her."

He smiles gently at her and Morgan despises that look and what it means. "Sometimes people do need a fresh start in life. A chance to be happy without the burden of the wellbeing of others to worry about. It's up to the student to carry on the legacy."

She disagrees and maybe she is a little afraid. "I'm sure Niniane will do an excellent job once she inherits our lady's power," she says a tad bitter.

"I'm going to tell you what I tell every king," he draws himself up. "Life is easier when you can rely on the aid of friends. Will you not ease your mistresses' burden?"

Morgan considers him a moment and then huffs. "Your protégé is not terribly annoying to be around. I suppose for now I will help him. If only to test if he does have the potential to be a decent king."

"Oh! Is that a hint of affection I hear!"

"You're going senile in your old age," she whacks him with his staff again. "Artorius should still be nearby. Go and make yourself useful." She leaves him there to go report to Viviane and lock the flute inside the storage room.


	3. Morgan joins the party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many questions. Gray has white hair and looks like Artoria...Mordred was a clone copy of Artoria in her first appearance... Morgan has been to Gray's village...she's distantly related to both of them...I'm connecting the dots. U know what, I wouldn't put it past Morgan to play a prank on them when she gave them the holy spear and agreed to Artoria being reincarnated when she knows damn well Artoria be chillin in Avalon.

Is it considered a breach in trust to force someone to become immortal? It's been a month since Merlin's honesty stripped Morgan of the illusion she had, even if Viviane physical appearance didn't age, her spirit did.

It's impossible to focus when the dread of her passing seems more likely every time Morgan glances at her tired eyes. She tries meditation but it doesn't work. Instead of clearing her mind she thinks about golden apples, chopping them into bits and tricking the older woman into eating it.

She goes to get Niniane's thoughts on making Viviane immortal. The other sorceress was out in the garden today, growing flesh eating plants.

"You need to get over your abandonment issues," Niniane puts her gardening tool down. "Even Sibel who lost her parents isn't whimpering about the loss."

"I don't have abandonment issues. Aren't you worried? Nobody here has the same authority as her. What will happen when she's gone? The worshippers of Christ and the Otherworld creatures will only grow bolder."

"I'm not. Someone will be selected from their maturity, power, and wisdom. I think our lady would prefer you to be her succesor once you mature a bit more. You never let go of a grudge once you think you've been wronged."

Morgan makes a little protesting sound. She'd make a great lady of the lake. She's powerful, knowledgeable, and not incapable of playing dirty.

"And I'm not powerful enough. It's either you or me...or maybe someone else will pick up the mantle."

"Who?" Morgan squats next to her and Niniane trims a leaf.

"Someone," she shrugs, "but that won't happen until decades from now. Stop fretting. You're making the plants fidgety. Smell the sunflowers." She shoves it to Morgan's face and its swatted to the ground.

"No, no! Look we-"

"I don't want to be part of your plans," she throws a ripe plum at Morgan.

"-we use the magical flute to put her to sleep. Grind the apples into mush and spoon feed her."

Niniane closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Sister, I know your fairy blood is more active, but I need you to have a stronger grip on your morals. You can't force feed someone the golden apples."

"We won't force her. It'll trickle down her throat," she glances at the direction of the apple orchids.

"Shouldn't you be doing one of your tasks!" Niniane points at her.

"If I have to clean the grail one more time, I'm going to chuck it into the ocean," Morgan responds with annoyance. No doubt its old and sacred but apparently it needs to be dusted daily or it'll collect all the evils in the world and start doomsday because Morgan missed a spot. She's not completely certain Viviane was joking when she said that.

They jump as hands grab their shoulders and Viviane smiles at them. Is it too late to pretend they were working instead of talking?

"Scheming this early in the day girls?"

"No," they answer with innocent faces.

"That's after bath," Morgan jests and her forehead is flicked by the older woman. She touches the spot. "Is there something you need, mistress?"

"Yes. I have received a message from the fairy folk in Northumberland of a feud between themselves and the town people. They ask for a mediator. Go and see if you can settle the conflict before the fairy folk decide to turn them into toads."

"Me? I'm happy to help my distant kin but that's far and fairies aren't known for their patience."

"The king and his mage are travelling that way for a campaign against the giants and Picts. He said you could ride in a wagon. Go, get ready, and get out. I don't want that incubus entering my island," she leaves them in the garden.

Giants. Have the giants allied themselves with the Picts? They usually stayed in their mountains and the Other world, making dirt paths and scaring travelers. Then again, she's heard the druids speak about the chief Ysbaddaden getting old and cruel.

"You've gotten pretty close with his majesty," Niniane says with a curious gaze and Morgan rolls her eyes. "Is Galahad no longer the object of your interest? I mean, Lancelot. That's what he goes by now."

They walk on the trail to their rooms. "Artorius is polite and handy. We work well together. As for Gal-Lancelot I haven't decided if he's handsome or simply tall," she whispers with a smile and Niniane giggles. "I think our lady might have blessed him because I'm never sure about his looks. Artorius I know is at least pretty even if he is short."

"I haven't had the chance to speak with his majesty, but our lady and the magus speak well of him. Is he as strong and skilled as Lancelot?"

The last time they fought Artorius had been holding back but... "I'm not certain. Does wielding an enchanted sword count as cheating."

"Yes."

They argue for a minute trying to determine if Galahad was indeed good looking. He's tall, he's muscular, his teeth are white, he has nice long hair, but he's French.

Morgan packs her clothes, a weapon, and a few potions in case she needs to turn someone back to a human. Niniane gives her perfumes and ribbons to take, she thinks with the soldiers there Morgan will have fun. She can't imagine it. From what she remembers foot soldiers were rowdy, had no manners, and weren't ashamed to show their butt cheeks as they piss on a tree. On a campaign and marching on the road they're going to be less conscious of their hygiene.

"Why am I the one being sent on missions," Morgan finishes packing her bag. "Do you think she knows?"

"That you're trying to poison her?"

"I'm trying to extend her life not cut it short," Morgan grumbles. "Make sure she doesn't croak and die while I'm gone."

"I wouldn't be dumb enough to fight death. That's you."

Morgan hits her in the face with a pillow.

She goes to the shore and wonders what kind of conflict will she have to settle? The fairy folk usually stay in their forests and villagers get anxious about venturing too deep into the trees. Whatever problem there is she can find a resolution through tricking both parties to compromise. That or the peasant will scream in fear and never bother the fairy folk again.

The ferryman rows her to the other side and she tries not biting at her nails as Avalon is covered by mist. He bids her a safe trip, and she tells him she'll bring him a souvenir back.

Artorius might be a warlord but he won't keep a lady waiting. He's looking more rugged than usual but no less beautiful. She expected his mentor Merlin, but he was alone.

"Where's dear Merlin?" Morgan asks and pats his horse.

"Sleeping from a night of drinking. Hello Morgan," Artorius puts his hood down. He wore an ugly brown cloak and Morgan immediately shamed him for it. "What's wrong with it? I didn't want to keep borrowing yours."

"You look like a peasant!" she judges the shabby quality of the cloak. "I know you're a warlord know but have higher standards in style. For your coronation I'll get you a proper cloak. A white one with feathers."

"White? But my colors are blue and silver"

"I want our cloaks to contrast," she shakes her head at his lack in aesthetics.

"Another gift from Avalon. I have the kindest patrons."

"Yet, I can't help but notice you brought a horse for yourself but not me."

The warlord shakes his head. "I thought we could ride together. Rei wouldn't mind," he speaks for his horse. "Or you can ride, and I'll walk."

"We'll ride together. That way I can whisper into your ear and tease you better," she says reaching up. They might not have another opportunity to be alone.

"Please don't distract me. I'll accidentally lead Rei into a ditch," Artorius smiles gently and helps Morgan get on Rei. The horse is big, meant for war and could easily gallop with two people. Artorius sets an easy trot.

He inquires on her health and is pleased to hear she's fine. Morgan doesn't ask. She tilts his face around and pulls at the clothes that aren't heavy with armor causing Artorius to squeak and almost slaps her hands away. He's very shy. They catch up on what they've been up to and he's stunned to hear about Morgan's plans for the lady of the lake.

"I thought she was a fairy or an avatar of the land. An immortal being."

"She's a person like you and me. She lives and dies like anyone else."

"But when I pulled Caliburn I became something other than human. I thought it was the same for Avalon's residents."

Morgan bites her lips as she thinks on how to explain. "The lady of the lake is part water fairy. Naturally, her life will be longer than the average person. In comparison the lifespan of a villager would be that of a cat, the lifespan of someone living in Avalon would be like a turtle, and the lifespan of a full-blooded fairy is that of a lobster. We have better food, water, medicine, and plumbing in Avalon, the average villager does not. And she does represent the land which extends her life even more."

"I never considered it like that. I don't know the life span of any of those animals, but I get the idea. My lifespan would be?"

"I assume that of a turtle," she tugs on his pretty locks. "If you manage not to get yourself killed, you could be the oldest living monarch." If the Christians don't kill him first. While people have always been obsessed with immortality, some freak out over meeting one and think of it as the work of the devil.

She feels Artorius try to suppress his shudder, when she turns to see his face it's carefully neutral. "Is the thought of near immortality not tempting for you?"

"No," he shifts in his seat. "Not really. It'll be difficult to have a peaceful rule if I live to be nearly hundred or more. And Merlin's prophecy said six of my descendants would rule after me." If Greek mythology has taught her anything it's that prophecies are tricky and ironic. "I can't imagine a golden dynasty or the pressure of raising my successors."

Feeling bad for the burden he carries Morgan squeezes his hand. "You'll have me and Merlin to help. You've been to Avalon, you know how calm and tranquil it is. I'm sure the next lady of the lake will let you visit whenever you like and bring Merlin as long as he doesn't act like a womanizer or if he hasn't been killed by an angry ex by then."

He tilts his head and lets out a chuckle. "When I build my castle, you'll have a room and a seat at my table. Your children will be welcome as well."

She thinks of Morgause and her children training to be knights. Serving a king or high king isn't what she wants for her offspring, but she thanks Artorius anyways.

Too soon they hear the sounds of footsteps, clanging of armor, and the hoofs of horses. Artorius straightens his posture and rides to the front. Merlin isn't there but another blond-haired man, tall and broad, with a tattoo on the side of his face. He looks more like a warlord than Artorius does.

"You took your sweet time in returning," he glances at Morgan. "And you came back with a beautiful woman."

"Sir Kay, meet Morgan of Avalon. My lady this is my brother. My first knight. You can trust him even if he is a bit of a flirt," he smiles as he looks at them.

"Oh. Your Morgan," he smirks and the friendly smile on Artorius becomes strained.

"Hello," Morgan says almost shyly. It's hitting her that Artorius is in fact a commander, people look up to him, and Morgan has been casually messing with him since day one.

"The women of Avalon are more beautiful than Merlin mentioned," the knight Kay grins at her. "You especially I'm happy to finally meet."

"Whatever Merlin told you I promise he was being dramatic."

"Merlin? No Artorius told me about some of your adventures. Is it true you tried drinking a possibly poisoned well?"

She turns her head to Artorius but he's picking at his sleeve. Why would he tell his brother that! "No."

"He must've told it to me wrong. Either way I look forward to getting to know you. The time marching will go faster in your company. Tell me, what do you like to do during your free time?"

"Go and tell the others to pick up the pace," Artorius orders him.

"There he goes, keeping me busy. I hope we have a chance to speak before we part ways up north." Kay smiles and he even looks less like Artorius.

"My apologies, Morgan. I told him you are our ally and he still acts like that," he steers the horse to a moving wagon.

"It's cute to think of you as the little brother," she moves to pinch his cheek but restrains herself.

"I'm king," he asserts. "If he or anyone bothers you, tell me and I will have them disciplined. My men are knights not savages," Artorius holds her hand as he helps her step into the wagon. To her surprise, Merlin is in a sleeping bag and snoring lightly. "He thought he could outdrink the others. He lost," they share an amused smile. He clears his throat and looks away, "I have to go set an example and lead the march. Would you join me for supper later?"

Morgan nods. Artorius brightens and then urges Rei forward.

She checks in on Merlin and he makes a pitiful sound. Lucky for him when he whimpers into the world of the reality, Morgan has a concoction for him ready. He gulps it down and says in a sad voice, "I don't have the metabolism of a demon."

Truly, he got the worst of his mother's genes.

The flower magus has nasty breath too and she gives him something for it. He can't stand the light or the moving wagon and almost stumbles off it if Morgan hadn't pulled him by his cloak. She spends most of the day playing nurse.

"I'm happy you're here Morgan," he hugs her without permission. "Everyone is incredibly judgmental of what I do," laments the half incubus. "You'll take some of the heat."

When the last of the light is dying the men make camp and Merlin is feeling more of himself.

It's mischief time.

Magus duels mustn't always be violent. Sometimes it about who can show off better. They start with simple stuff, randomly igniting stuff, turning water into wine, using charms to get the soldiers to carry them around.

For the last round they have a group of soldiers as judges. Merlin holds a test tube.

"This can grow your dick five inches longer in less than an hour," he says cockily, the men giggle and lean forward.

She doesn't trust the green liquid. "What are the drawbacks?"

He sucks in his lips. "A few things. Amnesia, sleep paralysis, infection, headache, tummy ache, seizure, loss of taste, inability to control urine-"

"Merlin! That's not safe to drink."

"But you'll have a bigger penis for a whole session."

"It shrinks back?" Morgan bursts into giggles.

The judges no longer look horny to try.

She holds her flask. "I created a hair recovery oil. Rub this on your bald spot every night and after a week your hair will start to grow back."

"That doesn't sound true at all!"

"It's effective. I've tested it."

The older men lean forward.

"What's the bad side about it? Symptoms?" he asks, and she bites her tongue.

"Maybe an itchy scalp. And don't drink it. You'll be coughing up hairballs all day."

The soldiers form into a circle and discuss.

Merlin wins.

Morgan plots revenge.

But that has to wait because Artorius summons them to eat in his tent. Merlin slurps his soup like the old man that he is. Kay is there too but his eyes are trained on the military spending. His generals keep poking their heads inside to see if he's done eating and they can resume strategizing. Kay isn't in a rush to finish but Artorius tries to eat quickly without looking polite.

"Isn't this nice?" Merlin steals her bread. She almost stabs him with her fork. "Enjoying a nice meal during a war campaign with my two best students and sir Kay."

"I'm your former student."

"As far as I'm aware I'm your only one. Best by default," Artorius says and cuts a slice from the meat pie to give to Morgan. "When we've won all our battles, I will build a castle and invite you and Merlin to a banquet where we can share a proper meal. Please wait until then."

"We need to resupply on the fruits," Kay tears at his pig leg.

"I love you both so much," Merlin cries and Artorius takes away his wine.

Evening meals aren't hectic as she expected.

Sleeping arrangements is a bigger deal than she expected.

"You can't have an ordinary tent. You can have mine," Artorius offers. "I'll bunk with Kay."

"You certainly will not. Don't ruin my nights," his brothers shake his head. "Why can't she sleep with Merlin?"

"That'd be unethical," the magus argues. "IF she were my student. Which she isn't. She can sleep with me."

"I'll have to decline. You snore loudly," Morgan steps back.

"I do not!"

"You do," the boys say.

"I'll sleep with Art. We've done it before." Kay chokes on his beer and Merlin's eyes bulge. Artorius blushes. "Not like that!" she laughs.

The half-sex demon glances between them and Morgan wonders which male figure gave Art the talk.

"Morgan what will people think if you're sleeping in my tent," Art frowns and paces. "But what will they think if I don't give you quarters befitting your rank."

"I can have a normal tent. I don't mi-"

"No," they all respond.

"You're very beautiful. Young and unmarried. Some men will jump at the chance if they see an opportunity," Merlin explains.

What Artorius decides is Morgan sleeps in his tent and he sleeps outside to guard her because he doesn't trust anybody else. It's a little ridiculous and she tries to coax him inside by using food.

She gets a chance to make up for taking his bed the next morning when the warlord and his brother come to her holding torn tunics. They look partially embarrassed for the state their clothes are in.

"Could you mend these?" Artorius asks with his big green eyes.

"What happened?" she takes the bundle of clothes and examines the damage.

"We were sword practicing," he explains.

She doesn't want to sass him in front of his brother and army but, "I don't know much about knights but aren't you supposed to wear armor and use shields," she puts her hand through one tear and eyes Artorius. "Did you get stabbed?"

"I got better," he says. "And we don't wear armor all day. It's best to be always prepared for emergency."

"Why not use wooden swords for training like the druids?"

"We're not squires, my lady," Kay smirks. "We know how to use a sword to disarm."

She bites her tongue to stop a retort. "Find me a needle and wear armor next time."

The fairy mends their clothes. The soldiers watch Artorius train and wield caliburn, their eyes sparkling with awe and some jealousy. Morgan is appalled to see the condition of a sleeve hanging by a single thread. Why hasn't anyone in Avalon or the world created a magical needle that repairs.

The training dummies stand no chance against Artorius. She decides to play a little trick and the inanimate puppets start walking; people start shrieking. Artorius glances over to Merlin but he's smiling.

"Neat trick! I'll do you one better!" he says cheerfully, and the dummies grow to the size of a giant. "This is a good learning opportunity. Gather your men, my king!"

The soldiers scamper to their positions but they're not feeling very confident over fighting that even if it's made of hay and wood. Artorius directs them and stands in front which is bad strategy in her opinion but Artorius does strike her as someone that's noble to a fault. Then again, she'd feel invincible too if she wielded Caliburn.

Sir Kay takes a seat next to her and she stands straighter. He nods at her and then looks down at the documents in his hands, she takes a peek, it's military spending and funds.

"Do you have any brothers, my lady?"

"No but I do have more than enough sisters to make up for it." Not like she'd ever tell them that to their faces. As one of the oldest girls she has an image to hold. "And what about you sir?"

He looks her dead in the eye and says, "I miss the days I was an only child. I haven't known peace since his majesty pulled out the sword of selection."

The sword of what? She sputters into her drink. Very unladylike but she almost laughs, and he smiles at her. She's known plenty of jokers in her life and yet they never cease to amuse her. "Please. Let me focus or your tunics will look odd."

They work side by side until he's satisfied with his math and she's done a decent job patching their clothes. She even folds their clothes!

Artorius and his battalion have taken down three so far using rope. Two more to go. Merlin is drinking and controlling the giant figures, his unfocused coordination squishes some of the soldiers. She goes to drink with him.

"Merlin."

"Yes," he happily gulps down his drink and moves his staff, the dummies steer that way.

"I've been meaning to ask about the caliburn. You turned it into a sword of selection. Either you made it so only Artorius could pull the sword out or he fit your specific criteria of what makes a king. The second option is impossible, meaning only Artorius could pull out the sword," she grins as he spills the contents of his cup on his chest. "It might as well be considered a fixed tournament game. You are quite the scam artist."

He gives her a pouty look and the dummy falls on a line of men during his distraction. "You think that low of me? I'll have you know I did have an ideal king in mind. A worthy king. And I saw Artorius in my vision."

"A sword doesn't prove legitimacy," Morgan laughs.

"No. Reputation and armies make the king. We have an army. Now we can work on his reputation. Build a legend. He already has a neat sword."

It is a pretty neat sword.

Army life is hectic even with all the order Artorius brings. The sound of marching, the smell of animals and human waste, everyone's exhaustion in the end of the day. To her surprise Merlin doesn't spend every day sleeping, drinking, flirting, or tailing Artorius. He has responsibilities, which he hates. Such tasks involve training, making the weather pleasant, and making sure everyone has nice dreams.

He doesn't interact with the army, preferring to observe and eavesdrop on gossip. The soldiers are also wary of his demon roots and the staff he isn't afraid to swing around.

Morgan might have the blood of fairies in her veins and hail from Avalon, but they know her as someone that can mend clothes and undue baldness. They're much braver about approaching her. She doesn't have much else to do but heal them while they travel north. At first some fake ailments to talk to her but that stops when Artorius enters the healing tents to glower. It's sweet of him to take time of his busy schedule to make sure they're not bothering her, and she'd pinch his cheek if she could.

The real patients were the ones suffering from drinking too much, constipation, concussions, fainting from dehydration, infections, and rashes. The captains didn't like her signed doctor's note letting her patients rest and get out of training. They'd complain to their king but some mornings Artorius would enter the tent and Morgan would swear it was like the men acted like they'd seen Jesus. They'd put on a brave face as Artorius stood next to Morgan and assure her his men were the strongest in the world. It was a major boost of morale, better than being tended by a beautiful woman.

She thinks she can see something king like in him.

The first time she sees Northumberland Morgan thinks the fairies have already done their damage. The castle was falling apart, there were numerous barren farming lands, the smell of smoke polluted the air, and an uncomfortable silence. The lack of nature made it feel alien to her. Yet, there were no powerful traces of magic for her to sense and Merlin can't sense any either.

She wants to go ahead and go find the quarreling parties but Artorius has his signature worried face on.

"Let's trade and give the men a chance to relax. We won't have another chance once we engage with the picts and giants. These people could do with stimulating the economy too," Kay says and goes to organize his underlings.

They'd go in small groups so as not to alarm the people or the lord of the castle. First goes the Herald and then Artorius and his party.

There's a small trace of fresh magic. The lack of power confuses both her and Merlin, but they choose to follow it while the lord of the castle invites Artorius to his castle. He asks them to behave while he's gone.

They follow the trail, and it leads them into a church. She doesn't want to go in but Merlin casually struts inside. A fairy and demon enter a church and try not to disturb the service as they investigate but it's near impossible to do without looking suspicious.

"What's the priest going on about?"

"I think he's talking about the story of Jacob and Esau. About leaving enough for your offspring to inherit so there's no loss in birthrights. It won't do to have siblings try and kill each other over material things," Merlin smiles nervously. "Very silly, the Cain instinct. And they do reconcile in the end. Isn't it nice when siblings get along?" he says like his daddy isn't a sex demon and he doesn't have brothers all over the world.

"Hmm," she shrugs. "Inheritance is something for the sons of kings to worry about." Besides that, she likes all her foster siblings. She thinks for a minute and glances at their attire. "I have an idea."

"This can't be good."

She has until the service ends to fill him in. They approach the head priest with heavenly smiles, and he's taken back. "Hello?" he folds his hands.

"Hello," Merlin says practically radiating a halo. "I'm father Raphael and this is sister Anna. We're servants of Rome and our savior." He does the sign of the cross. They can pull off the act with sheer confidence and the fact there's no way this priest has ever been to Rome and seen how they dress there.

"Messengers of Rome," he gasps and clasps Merlin's hands. "This is an unexpected surprise but not unwelcome."

"The pope sent us to help in your troubles."

"He knows of our troubles?"

"Yes. There was a revelation from above," Merlin says keeping a straight face. "But we'd like to hear more on it from you." The priest sighs and points up. They look at the ceiling. It's uh- "That's a penis," Merlin's voice cracks, and a few parents cover their children's ears. On the ceiling was a crude drawing of a penis.

"It's not only that," he shows them his holy text and it takes them a minute. That's not Latin. It's Gaelic.

"Huh," Morgan admires the nice handwriting and doodles. It's not even the Bible, it's recounting all the church drama and scandals. Interesting. It's harmless pranks. Must be the work of fairies. "Did you do something to catch this misfortune?"

"No. But some of the farmers destroyed a few fairy circles trying to clear out the forest."

That'd do it. Retaliation is fine if they can see and fight their opponents, but fairies worked differently, and these people were too poor for magical weapons.

"We'll get to the problem of this," Merlin promises.

"Thank you. Please. Let me show you to your lodgings."

Merlin, who was not here to stay or solve their problems, shakes his head and insists on going out and removing hell's creatures from the kingdom.

It's not his fault that the other trail leads to a bar. They talk to the bar tenders. The women recount strange happenings. Missing barrels, increased number of drunken fights, no tips. They take a seat to see if anything happens when Artorius enters with Kay and another man wearing shabby armor.

The stranger is startled to see them. "Father! Sister! What are you doing in such a place!" He must've seen them in the service.

"You impersonated as members of the church?" Artorius asks them.

Who hasn't? "It's not impersonating if I was a member once. And Merlin is something like an apostle."

The warlord tries not look vexed at them. "Excuse them. They're not always committing crimes against heaven. This is my magus Merlin and my healer Morgan."

"Never mind our small acts of sin. Who is your new friend?" Merlin asks looking at the young man.

"This is sir Balin," Artorius introduces him. "He has impressive swordsmanship and will be joining our ranks."

"I hope to prove myself a worthy knight to you, my liege."

"And pay off his debt," Kay adds and Balin blushes.

He looks too scruffy and malnourished to be a knight. More like a paid mercenary. They sit and order drinks as well.

"It's not a debt," Balin says. "The land isn't yielding any crops for us to go give to our lord in repayment."

"Yes, we noticed the terrible quality of your soil near the kingdom," Merlin takes a bite of his chicken. "That's not the work of fairies."

"What?"

"You've overworked it without returning any nutrients," Morgan explains. "And the smoke in the air...did you burn the woodlands to clear for farming?"

"Yes but it didn't work."

"I imagine they didn't like that and cursed the area you burned," Morgan hums. "I think this could be resolved by replanting the trees."

"But what about our troubles? They cursed our lands-"

"You shot yourself with your own arrow," Morgan corrects him.

"And the mischief they've caused too. Before the bad harvests and they haven't stopped."

That's interesting. Fairies go at it once if they're slighted, a big curse, and leave. As she thinks the men continue having a conversation.

"How much do you owe?" Merlin asks and Balin gives him a number. "Is that a lot? Like the price of a cow?" he doesn't know how money works and looks at Morgan.

"I don't know. I don't pay taxes."

"...what?" Kay and Balin go.

"Everyone pays their due to the owner of the land whether it be grain or coin," Kay shakes his head.

"Avalon is a magical island," Morgan doesn't think the same laws of man apply to the resident of Avalon since they aren't completely human. She blinks and stars at Artorius. "I hope you don't expect us to pay taxes. We already gave you a fancy sword unlike the church. We should be exempt," she speaks like a representative.

Artorius gives her a look that says they'll talk about it later.

"You are a lady of Avalon?" Balin asks and the shadow on his face makes her twitch. "Your mistress has given my family a great amount of grief."

She's startled by this sudden change in him and isn't certain how to respond. She didn't think anyone had a problem with the lady of the lake.

"Morgan of the fairies is what they call you. Are you working with them to starve us?"

"You misheard," Morgan shakes her head and holds her hands up. "They call me Morgan of the freemen."

He pushes off his seat and grips the handle of his sword with a ferocious look on his face, but Caliburn is pricking at his throat in the blink of an eye. Artorius is on his feet, luminous and calm eyes bearing down on the other man.

"I ask you to think twice on attacking the lady. She has not provoked you, nor is she armed. Remove your hand or I will remove it for you," he says in a level voice.

They stare at each other and despite being taller and broader Balin slowly let's go of his sword and sits down. Artorius doesn't slide his sword back into his sheath but leaves it on his lap. Under the table she feels his calloused hand squeeze her knee. There's a flurry of warm feelings inside her that she chooses to ignore for now.

She smiles at Balin, "I don't plan to let your people die. In fact, my mistress sent me here to solve this. I have to be alive to do so."

Merlin yawns. "Whatever hatred you harbor for the lady of the lake you should give it up. She doesn't leave Avalon and trying to enter without a guide or permission will get you killed. Unlike me you won't survive being dragged into the water by nymphs."

He curls his hands and glares at the table. Morgan doesn't want to be in his company any longer.

"Excuse me gentlemen. I'm going to go speak with my kin," she stands and leaves the fine establishment. She's followed by Artorius.

Finally seeing there's an opportunity in the night Morgan whispers into his ear, "that was hot," he jumps high into the air and even drops caliburn. She laughs at him as he tries to collect himself.

"MORGAN!" he loudly whispers and looks around them to see if anyone saw. "Please take me seriously."

"No. You have such cute reactions," she grasps his wrist and smirks at his goosebumps.

"I swear you'll be the death of me," he sighs.

"In all seriousness that man could be a problem. I think I should put something in his drink and let him sleep peacefully forever. He doesn't have to worry over his financial problems that way."

"Morgan... are you suggesting murder?"

"Maybe. Or we can-" she shows him a golden dagger, "-just sever the tie between his mind and body. He'll live."

He shakes his head and tells her to put the dagger away. Morgan complies.

"Are you returning to your camp?"

"No. We leave in the morning. Tonight, I'll be protecting you."

She smiles at him and crosses her arms. "You don't have to take time out of your busy schedule to help me. Go and get some rest, your majesty. You haven't had a proper night rest during this whole journey."

"You're a friend I rarely see. I want to help," he says with incredible sincerity and she blushes.

"You're too sweet. Keep at it like that and I'll kiss you before the night is over," she sees a flash of light and doesn't see his reaction. Then there's a commotion in the closing marketplace. The warlord and sorceress move.

The merchants and a few of Artoria's soldiers are fighting over fruits they bought that turned out to be rotten. Artoria gets between them. The merchants swear the fruits were fresh and don't want to give them a refund. He argues with the merchants and grudgingly they return half their money.

It goes like that for the next two hours as they try to find the source of mischief. Morgan is certain it's not a fairy because when she called out to it there was no response. They chase the maker of chaos through apartments, pens, an empty pool they fall into, get chased by a dog, and reach a dead end.

Morgan is panting and leaning on the wall. Artorius is glaring at the sky. "The meddlesome fairy is difficult to corner. Are you okay Morgan?"

She's out of breath and her lungs want to quit for the night.

"Maybe we can ambush it? What can we use for bait?" he has his hand on her back as she wheezes. "Not my sword."

"I think it'd be best to go to the woods and speak with them directly," she responds. "After I get my breath back."

They walk to where they left Artorius's horse and are both stunned at Rei's new look. The horse was no longer white, and a pointy cone was stuck on its forehead. She touches its pink coat and checks her hand. It's wet with paint. This was done recently.

"We've been played a trick," she laughs and Artorius is too horrified to see the humor.

She doesn't laugh alone. Someone else chimes in and Artorius vanishes in a flash. The laughter stops abruptly, and she goes to find Artorius. Behind the barn Artorius is clutching something.

"I got the fairy!" he shows her with an expression of triumph. He may hold the fate of a nation in his hand, but it doesn't stop him from shaking the creature in his fist for what it did to his precious horse.

"Art! That is a pixie!" she holds his shoulder and looks at the small impish creature.

"Isn't it basically the same thing?"

"No! What has Merlin been teaching you," she grumbles and takes it from his hand. The pixie struggles in his gasp and she hears its chime like talk.

"What's it saying?" Artorius asks.

"I don't speak pixie."

They trap it inside an empty lantern. Artorius presents it to Rei and the pixie flutters inside the lantern and sticks its tongue at him. Her amusement increases when he shakes it in frustration and again holds it in front of an uninterested Rei.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but nonhuman creatures don't always feel shame for their actions," she chuckles.

"Oh, it knows what it did was naughty," Artorius grumbles. "Let's present the culprit to the lord of the castle and clear the conflict between the fair folk and them."

That's what they would've liked to have done! Except there's a giant crowd in the town square and in the center in Merlin tied to a stake. He seems to notice them all the way in the back and smiles abashedly at his predicament. Neither Kay nor Balin were anywhere to be seen.

They were gone for maybe an hour. She can't believe Merlin beat her record in getting accused and sentenced to death for witchcraft.

Artorius pushes through the crowd and Morgan follows his lead.

"How do you plead?" the priest asks.

"Not guilty," Merlin answers.

"You did not flirt with our lord's wife?"

"That I did but-"

"Did you not pretend to be a holy man?"

"I remember being dunked into holy water as a baby. That counts," Merlin argues and a few in the crowd choke back their giggles.

"Are you not from hell itself? Is your father not the dragon that lurks under the earth?"

"I have dual citizenship," Merlin says in his chipper voice. Someone brings a torch, and his eyes widen. "Wait! No. I didn't come out of his testicles. I think?" the priest gives him an annoyed look and Merlin shrugs as the ropes chafe at his skin. "It was a crazy night. Got her pregnant and bailed. He can't pay child support if she doesn't know his identity," he laughs but nobody joins in. "It was a rough childhood."

"Return back to the depths of hell foul beast!" he exclaims.

"Foul!" Merlin says offended and Artorius blows out the fire. "My king!"

"Your majesty," the priest clears his throat and then glares at Morgan innocently standing behind Artorius. "There are devil worshippers among us. A witch and devil. They reek from evil."

"I smell delightful! Like roses. She smells like mischief and bad decisions," Merlin protests. "The only devil I have in me is being devilishly handsome," he winks at a few nuns in the sidelines.

"Excuse me! You smell like sex and mistakes!" she snaps at Merlin, then turns back to the priest. "I'd sooner kill Merlin than worship him. How dare you th-" Artorius covers her mouth.

"Don't mind them. They're in my party and have good character most of the time."

"My liege, we must drive them back from where they came."

"That is my advisor, and the lady is a representative of Avalon, show some respect," he says and the two smirk haughtily at the priest. "Untie my magus. We've come with the true culprit," he says, and Morgan lifts the lantern. There's no pixie but a small flame. Morgan frowns and shakes it causing the illusion to fail.

"A fairy!"

"Pixie actually," Morgan corrects him.

It takes half the night to clear things up. When they return to camp, they find out Kay was sleeping with the bartender woman while Merlin almost died. In the early morning Artorius is almost looking downcast. His eyes were pointed at the ground and the corners of his lips weren't a straight line like usual. He walks her to where the horses are stationed.

"Will you be returning to Avalon?"

"Yes."

"It's a long way off," he says with worry.

"And what about you?"

"We need to travel further north before the snow falls." He glances at the ground and then at Morgan. "It's going to be cold and tough work for Merlin to keep us alive and warm. And the giants will give us trouble. Perhaps, the lady of the lake can lend us a powerful sorceress?" he says with pink cheeks.

"You want me to go to a war zone?" Morgan steps closer to him.

"I'd keep you safe. I've done it successfully so far." He stands straight and strong.

"Do you want me there?" the sun is rising and warming her skin.

"It'd be a strategic boon for-"

"Art," she steps even closer and eyes the tunic, he's been careful not to ruin his nice clothes. "Do you?"

"I'd like for you to join me," he confesses.

"Well, as a representative of Avalon I suppose I could go along as a sign of our support for the new king," she says coyly and tugs on his ugly cloak. She should get to work on making his new cape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of wish fate gave me a little more of a timeline. I think it goes Kay first, then Bedivere, and then Lancelot join the round table? When did Artoria and Morgan first realize they're related?? When did Merlin get trapped by Nimue??? How old is MORDRED?!? but since i don't know squat i'm going to make it up as i go. Nobody take this seriously I just want to write about super serious overburdened king and her mischievous law breaking fairy sister. Forgive my grammatical errors, I don't proof read long chapters :)


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